Sacred Planet: Book One of the Dominion Series by Austin Rogers

might even become my heir.”
    Panic spread through Kastor like wildfire, burning him from the inside, tearing into his heart. There had to be another way. Any other way.
    “My lord, please . . .” Kastor said, trembling as he struggled to think of an alternative. “Let me prove my loyalty another way. I . . . I’ll conquer the defiant systems. I’ll bring all of Sagittarius under your rule.”
    “Indeed you will,” Zantorian said. “If you become my champion.” He shoved the sword against Kastor’s chest, forcing him to take it, and then stepped to the side.
    All others backed away, leaving Kastor and Pollaena in the center of the circle, facing each other. She looked at him in shock and disbelief and, despite her best efforts, fear. Swords remained in sheaths as the cradlemates tried to communicate with their eyes, tried to find some way out. There had to be a way out. Somewhere. Somehow .
    “My lord,” Kastor protested. “Pollaena is my lifemate, my maiden. She does not deserve—”
    “ Deserve ?” the Grand Lumis repeated. “Something you must learn, young Kastor—neither of you deserve anything from me. You were born to serve the Regnum, not the other way around.”
    “Why does the Regnum require this?”
    “Because I am the Regnum!” the Grand Lumis thundered. “And I require it!”
    Aermo stepped forward. “Draw your swords. Now .”
    Neither drew their swords.
    Zantorian crossed his arms, waiting. He took in a long breath. Kastor watched his maiden glance around at the circle of Guardians. They wouldn’t be able to fight their way out. Compassion welled in him. It wouldn’t be a fair match. Pollaena could nail a bullseye two kilometers out on a windy day, but her swordsmanship was lacking. Nothing like Kastor’s. He could deal a lethal blow in six moves. He knew dozens of sword tactics that she had never learned, that she wouldn’t be able to parry. A new weight dropped in him when he realized his thoughts, murderous thoughts, focused on Pollaena , his destined love, his maiden. He couldn’t do this. His heart ached, wanted to burst. How could he do this to her?
    “Too bad,” Zantorian said dismissively, before swiveling and stepping away.
    On impulse, Kastor’s sword sliced out of its sheath with a loud shing . Pollaena’s eyes bolted to him. A storm roiled inside him, and one last time, he met her gaze with love and tenderness, pleading for forgiveness for even this small gesture of betrayal. But she knew him. She knew him all too well. Their love, their history, their plans for glory—none of it meant anything anymore. He had drawn his sword.
    Pollaena’s lips pressed together. Eyes hardened. Kastor watched as she forced all warmth from her face, all softness from her skin, all memories from her mind, until only the rigid core of the warrior remained. She drew her sword in a quick flash and tossed its sheath aside.
    “If you’ve made your choice,” she said, her voice carrying no more life. “Then get on with it. But you won’t get it for free.”
    Zantorian returned to Raza’s side, looking pleased and faintly amused. Kastor dropped his sheath, feeling his muscles flex and twitch involuntarily. His eyes wanted to cloud, but he steeled himself. “I love you, Pollaena.”
    She let out a fierce cry and charged. Kastor recognized the tactic—her only hope relied on staying on the offensive. He raised his short blade, blocked her strike, then sidestepped and pushed her past him. She stumbled toward the Guardians before recovering, raising her sword. Once again, she cried out and charged, throwing two swings before he shoved her out of combat distance.
    “Come on!” Pollaena shouted. “Fight me!”
    Their blades met with echoing clangs, his feet shuffling backwards as hers shuffled forwards. Kastor allowed her to knock his sword to the side so that she would thrust at him. He dodged, grabbed her by the neck, threw her away, unable to force his blade through her precious